How I Live The Practice

[Zamurito]

~

Not really poetry, but seems to fit here.

From the skull cup that preserves the bliss of retention
I eat the ambrosia of whatever arises in the six sensory consciousnesses,
Quench my thirst with the poison of attachment to duality,
And extract nourishment from the aconite of reactive emotions.

A snip from:

From Tsulak Trengwa's biography
How I Live The Practice

[Zamurito]

~

An utter mystery — it can't be named.
Supple and free — all sense of "I" is gone.
Totally transparent — emotional reactions cannot take hold.
Radiantly clear — knowing, free from any fixation, inside or out.
Vividly present — direct awareness, not attaching to anything.

Cutting Through
by Machik Lapdrön

[Zamurito]

~

Five Elements

Stubborn and stiff, I avoid hollow uncertainty.
Underneath the ground quakes and I lose my footing.
As long as I grasp, life seems to be stable,
But it just means I'm stuck and have no way to move.

When my mind is the gold dakini of earth,
I see these reactions to be the phantoms they are.
Everything is experience, as rich as a jewel.
There is no ground and I can rest right here.

Attempts to disperse and deflect what arises
Leave me feeling assaulted and at risk of being swept away.
Wriggling this way and that, I try to sidestep it
But I run out of room and freeze where I stand.

When my mind is the silver dakini of water,
I see these reactions to be the phantoms they are.
In the mirror of mind what appears is just there.
Free from fear I see clearly how all things are.

A consuming intensity masks a heart-wrenching loneliness.
Lost in a desert, there is no one around.
The slightest sensation ignites a devouring inferno,
Burning completely to ash all that is here.

When my mind is the ruby dakini of fire,
I see these reactions to be the phantoms they are.
The reddest of roses is a heart that just knows.
Taking every detail in, I'm not separate or alone.

In frenetic activity I hide because I cannot stand where I am.
Fleeing from ruin, I fall and keep falling.
I find one thing to do and then another and another,
Soon torn to bits in doing that does nothing.

When my mind is the emerald dakini of air,
I see these reactions to be the phantoms they are.
Like a sword, effective action cuts through all problems.
What needs to be done and the doing are one.

In a black hole I am overwhelmed and bewildered.
Terrified at not being, I go blank and know nothing.
Not knowing what to do, I go completely to pieces:
Mere dust, now, scattered, through all space and time.

When my mind is the sapphire dakini of void,
I see these reactions to be the phantoms they are.
A white shining circle reveals that nothing is missing.
In the totality of knowing, presence is always just there.

Ken McLeod

[Zamurito]

~

SONG TO LADY WISDOM
by Julia Liebeskind

Lady Wisdom
Mother of Compassion
You have poured an ocean of blessings on this confused traveler.

When I felt shaken
You supported me.
Now I know support as steadfastness of practice.

When I felt engulfed
You touched me.
Now I know relationship as seeing things just as they are.

When I felt cold and alone
You warmed me.
Now I know kindness as both embrace and discrimination.

When I felt blown around
You sheltered me.
Now I know activity as doing what needs to be done.

When I felt lost
You showed me the way.
Now I see signposts everywhere.

When anger arose like a herd of mad elephants
You stood still and let them pass through you.
Now I know anger to be a wave of energy.

When desire arose like a bouquet of deliciously scented flowers
You received it gracefully, and set it gently down.
Now I know to smell desire and then to let it rest.

When everything seemed at peace
You heard the whimpers of the starving dog in the undergrowth,
took her in, and fed her.
Now I know that looking can never stop.

Lady Wisdom
You have led me this far.
Please stay with this restless traveler
Until I wake from my dream.

[datura]

This is really good. Thanks Kris

~

SONG TO LADY WISDOM
by Julia Liebeskind

Lady Wisdom
Mother of Compassion
You have poured an ocean of blessings on this confused traveler.

When I felt shaken
You supported me.
Now I know support as steadfastness of practice.

When I felt engulfed
You touched me.
Now I know relationship as seeing things just as they are.

When I felt cold and alone
You warmed me.
Now I know kindness as both embrace and discrimination.

When I felt blown around
You sheltered me.
Now I know activity as doing what needs to be done.

When I felt lost
You showed me the way.
Now I see signposts everywhere.

When anger arose like a herd of mad elephants
You stood still and let them pass through you.
Now I know anger to be a wave of energy.

When desire arose like a bouquet of deliciously scented flowers
You received it gracefully, and set it gently down.
Now I know to smell desire and then to let it rest.

When everything seemed at peace
You heard the whimpers of the starving dog in the undergrowth,
took her in, and fed her.
Now I know that looking can never stop.

Lady Wisdom
You have led me this far.
Please stay with this restless traveler
Until I wake from my dream.

[Zamurito]

~

Most welcome.

I enjoyed it as well.

z

[Zamurito]

~

I am carved glass
that cannot stop singing in this wind.
Where did I leave my self?
How did I become yours?
Do I miss what was, what seemed to be?
Light streams though me,
blinding this thought.

*

I feel the cold wind
carve through my dreams
scattering the pieces placed
by a fractured self.
This fellow can't help
but claim everything as his own.

*

When the world is too bright
I cannot see inside.
Give me a night
to match that dark depth
that rests my soul.

*

I am the minute
it takes to read this poem.
Emerging from darkness.
Ordinary, yet astonishing.
Straining to voice its origin.
Creating meaning from memory.

All the while,
slowly losing the pieces
that made the words
that made the man.

Words
sliding into darkness
faltering with me
becoming edgeless inside.

*

My self is burning,
drawn by gravity into this atmosphere,
leaving a trail of living
that fades,
even as I return
to my origin.

*

I've been here forever
and in another place as well,
that holds eternity
as I hold snow in my hand --
melting me over and over.

*

To touch another is heartache.
This gulf separating
hand and hand
mind and mind
is only crossed alone.
Love is the eye,
the turning,
the within.

Shawn Nevins

[Zamurito]

~

Mood of a Warrior

Song sung by don Juan

Canción Mixteca ?

(Que lejos estoy del cielo donde he nacido. Immense nostalgia invade mi pensamiento. Ahora que estoy tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento, quisiera llorar, quisiera reir de sentimiento.)

"I'm so far away from the sky where I was born. Immense nostalgia invades my thoughts. Now that I am so alone and sad like a leaf in the wind, sometimes I want to weep, sometimes I want to laugh with longing."

~

I marveled at the sense of well-being that this vast landscape induced in me. There were no jagged edges, no fragments of meaning. All was massive, singular, and soft under the prayerful canopy of the sky.

Neither Wolf nor Dog - On Forgotten Roads with an Indian Elder - Kent Nerburn

~

"The twilight is the crack between the worlds," don Juan said. "It is the door to the unknown." He pointed with a sweeping movement of his hand to the mesa where we were standing. "This is the plateau in front of that door."

He pointed then to the northern edge of the mesa.

"There is the door. Beyond, there is an abyss and beyond that abyss is the unknown."

The Predilection of Two Warriors
TALES OF POWER
Carlos Castaneda

~

It is not easy for a man to be as great as a mountain or a forest. But that is why the creator gave them to us as teachers. Now that I am old I Iook once more toward them for lessons, instead of trying to understand the ways of men. They tell me to be patient. They tell me I cannot change what is, I can only hope to change what will become. Let the grasses grow over our scars, they say, and let flowers bloom over our wounds.

Neither Wolf nor Dog - On Forgotten Roads with an Indian Elder - Kent Nerburn

z

[Zamurito]

~

The Last Warrior

High on bleak, stony rag,
Unmoving, he sits astride
His ragged coated pony.

Only telltale frozen breaths,
Separate them from
The still, winter black boles
Of ancient leafless trees.

The pony, blown and lame,
Stands with lowered head,
Ears flattened to the sound
Of a distant wolf pack.

The man on his back,
All weapons lost,
Ignores the trickling blood
From savage wounds,
Mingling his war paint.

Eyes burning fiercely
He strains to find
The sign he seeks:
Behind, the sound of enemy
Draws ever closer.

At last, faith rewarded,
He sees far below
In the deep valley,
Arriving at the edge
Of the fast flowing river,
The great she bear
With two gamboling cubs:
To fish the racing salmon,
Drawn relentlessly toward
Their age-old spawning ground.

Silently, the wounded brave
Offers his final prayer
To the eternal clan bear;
Totem and guardian
Of his battle slain tribe.

The enemy, exultant,
Are almost upon him,
Yet he looks not behind:
He sees only the Great Spirit,
Surrounding him kindly
In loving, firm embrace.

While the enemy closes in,
He straightens himself;
His voice rings loud and clear,
Echoing across the land
To the distant cloudless sky.

One last defiant war cry
As he spurs on his pony,
And leaps...

Into the world of his ancestors.

W.J. Bruce

[Zamurito]

~

Carefree

The white moon is high
There's a breeze in my hair
The night air is warm
I am without care

The spirits are carried
In the breeze on my face
The loved and cherished
Of my beautiful race

The grass rustles quietly
With its secrets to give
It whispers to tell us
Where all creatures live

And the Earth it tells stories
Of who passed this way
And where they have gone
And how far away

The stars shine so brightly
In the sky up above
And look down on our people
With patience and love

The voices drift up
From the village below
The laughing and singing
Of a hundred fine Crow

The dogs are now sleeping
And the horses they rest
For tomorrow we are put
To the ultimate test

We'll pray to our gods
And paint up our men
We'll gather our horses
And weapons and then

With the strength of the eagle
And painted we'll go
Swift over the plains
To hunt great buffalo

But for now I will sit
With my back to this tree
Safe in the knowledge
Our life is carefree

Gabi 21.5.96